


Poprocks & Coke

by Beauxxxtiful_lies



Series: Four the Love Of... [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Flirting, Baby’s First Fanfic!, Because best friends cuddle, But really who can blame him, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Fucking, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Getting Together, Hanamaki is a thirsty bitch, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, Mutual Pining, OT4, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining and Plotting, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Pre-Poly, Rock show date, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Smut, Volleyball Dorks in Love, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2020-11-26 23:17:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies/pseuds/Beauxxxtiful_lies
Summary: Makki and Mattsun know that their friends are in love, and have been for years. Only an idiot wouldn’t recognize it.Well...two idiots.(OR: Boyfriends try to gently push their best friends into love, and find themselves in too deep.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to rare pair HanaMatsuIwaOi hell. I’m Beauxxxtiful_lies and I will be your guide. 
> 
> (ノ^o^)ノ
> 
> Hope you enjoy — This is my first fic, so I’d love to know what you think!
> 
> ***  
Update: Now with [fanart](https://catastrafey.tumblr.com/post/189137918538/ahhhhh-this-is-fanart-i-did-for-my-friend) by my amazing friend [@catastra_fey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catastra_Fey/pseuds/Catastra_Fey)!!!!!
> 
> https://catastrafey.tumblr.com/post/189137918538/ahhhhh-this-is-fanart-i-did-for-my-friend
> 
> ***  
Entire story edited 5/10/20. No big changes, just fixed tenses & such. This thing was a hot damn mess. (・_・;)

“Careful Mattsun,” Hanamaki singsonged. 

“You wouldn’t want anyone to think you were ogling our dear vice-captain.” The lanky strawberry blonde plopped down onto the bench next to Matsukawa, stretching his legs out and wiping the damp fringe of bangs off his forehead. 

Matsukawa slid his gaze sideways from where his heavy lidded eyes had been focused on the court. “What do you know?” he replied, tone impassive. 

Makki gave a low chuckle, one corner of his mouth quirking up into a sly grin. “I know those arms are making it really hard to focus on my receives right now.” 

Matsukawa kept his face neutral, but a slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes gave away his amusement. “Now who’s ogling?” He leaned back from where he had propped his forearms on his knees, taking a long drink from his water bottle, and placed his hand alongside Makki’s on the bench between them. 

Hanamaki turned his attention back toward the court, but not before looping Mattsun’s pinky with his own. 

“What are we going to do about those two?” he asked with a sigh. The boys watched as Iwaizumi connected with a perfect set from Oikawa, smashing the ball down on the other side of the net with tremendous force. Both of their expressions lit up as the spike echoed through the gym despite having done the same thing nearly a dozen times since practice had begun. 

“I don’t know, Makki. Why do we have to do anything?” 

“Because they’re our friends, Mattsun. Because they’ve both been acting weird around each other lately. And because...” Makki lowered his voice, expression suddenly very serious. “I might actually combust if I have to try and make it through another practice with Iwaizumi’s arms on display like that.”

“Idiot.” Matsukawa huffed out a laugh and squeezed his hold on Makki’s pinky still looped on the bench between their thighs. “How does their relationship status impact your sudden bicep obsession? You’re just mad you haven’t beaten him at arm wrestling. Wait...oh my god!” Mattsun whipped his head to stare at Makki, dark curls bouncing and sleepy eyes now comically wide. “Is that why you keep challenging him? Because you’re into his arms?!”

“Haven’t beaten him at arm wrestling— _ yet _ ,” Hanamaki corrected, smirking but ignoring his outburst. “Besides, wouldn’t you feel better at least knowing that someone got to enjoy all those...assets?” 

Matsukawa hummed. “ _ Assssets _ , huh?” he said, drawing out the  _ s _ , and flashing Makki a sly grin of his own. If Makki was trying to make him jealous, he’d have to try harder than that. Besides, it wasn’t the first time the topic of their friends' physique had come up. 

Makki pulled his hand back and gasped, clutching at his chest in feigned surprise at the pun while Mattsun chuckled beside him. “What are you implying, Mattsun? You know I only have eyes for your  _ assets _ .” He waggled his eyebrows. 

Matsukawa rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his smirk. “Why are you like this?”

“Whatever. Just think about it, okay? I’m tired of watching them pine after each other. It’s depressing, and it makes our movie nights really awkward.” 

Matsukawa shrugged and stood up, making to move toward the group of first years on the other side of the court practicing their receives with Watari and Yahaba. 

“And Issei...” Matsukawa looked back, making eye contact over his shoulder. Hanamaki said in a voice just loud enough for him to hear, “I know it wasn’t Iwaizumi who you were watching.” 

Matsukawa kept his face blank, but his eyes flicked almost imperceptibly toward the back corner of the gym where Oikawa had begun working on his jump serve. He winked at Hanamaki, and turned back toward the court just as a hint of blush began to color his cheeks. 

*****

The club room was empty except for the third years. By the time the equipment was cleaned up and Iwaizumi had dragged an exhausted Oikawa away from the court, the rest of the team had cleared out. 

Matsukawa didn’t mind staying late. He and Makki collected their things while their two captains locked up, talking idly about upcoming practice matches and new combo attacks they wanted to work on with the team. 

They could leave with their kouhai considering that, unlike the captains, they didn’t have club duties holding them back, but this was part of their routine. It had been since first year when the foursome discovered after their first volleyball club meeting that they all took the same path home; Makki and Mattsun splitting off at the halfway point from Iwaizumi and Oikawa toward their own neighborhoods. 

Matsukawa walked alongside Makki, arms swinging by his sides and fingertips brushing ever so slightly against Makki’s as they exited the school gates. Mattsun had never been one for PDA, but he didn’t mind these moments. Innocent touches ghosting across bare skin, twinkling gazes that lingered just a fraction too long; reminders, promises of what was to come once they were behind closed doors. 

Matsukawa flicked his gaze to the right and realized for the first time that night that both Oikawa and Iwaizumi were uncharacteristically quiet. Oikawa had his arms crossed, bag slung over one shoulder and nose turned haughtily into the air. Mattsun had no idea what happened between practice and the walk home, but Oikawa’s sidelong glances in Iwaizumi’s direction told him the ace was definitely responsible for his foul mood. 

He looked to Makki’s left and saw Iwaizumi, head down, hands fisted into his pockets, and a dark scowl creasing his brow. 

Hanamaki caught his eye and quirked an eyebrow, but responded to Mattsun’s very pointed look with a small nod of understanding. “Later,” it meant, and in that moment Matsukawa was glad that he and Makki could communicate with just a look. 

They walked on in relative silence. Listening to the hum of cicadas grow as the sun sank lower in the sky. Hanamaki kept the little bit of conversation alive by talking about the English project due later in the week. Oikawa gave short responses, but it was obvious that Iwaizumi was barely listening. 

“Oi, Iwa. You okay?” Hanamaki’s question broke him out of his thoughts for a moment, and he looked up at them with something like surprise painted across his face. 

“Oh...yeah. Sorry guys.” Iwaizumi mumbled, sheepishly scratching at the back of his head. “Just tired I guess.”

The pace slowed a bit as they reached their turnoff. “Well, see you guys at morning practice. Get some sleep Iwaizumi,” yawned Matsukawa. Iwaizumi gave a low growl of assent and continued on, too wrapped up in his own thoughts for anything more. Oikawa stopped at the corner to see them off. 

“See you tomorrow Mattsun. Makki.” He flashed them a peace sign, but his smile was strained, eyes lacking their usual fire. Hanamaki raised his hand in a wave, and turned back to see Oikawa trot away after Iwaizumi’s retreating form. 

“Rude Iwa-chan! Wait up!” 

With Oikawa’s voice fading behind them Makki and Mattsun slowly made their way home. Their tired feet scuffing along the pavement until Matsukawa interrupted the silence, “You were right.”

“About you checking out Oikawa earlier?”

“What!? No...I...that’s not...” Mattsun sputtered, caught off guard by Makki’s bold accusation. They never had been able to keep secrets from each other and of course this would be no exception. 

Makki cocked his head and flashed a Cheshire grin at Mattsun, amused at how flustered he’d made the other. Matsukawa was just glad that the fading light slightly obscured the blush he was sure he felt creeping across his face for the second time that night. 

“Okay, fine,” Mattsun grumbled. “Idiot. But that’s not what I meant. You were right about them acting weird.” Hanamaki hummed. “Maybe we  _ should _ do something.”

“Like what? This isn’t exactly a new problem. I’m pretty sure they’ve been in love for years. They’re hopeless.” Hanamaki sighed, “I just...want them to be happy, you know?”

Silence overtook them again. They walked on with their heads down for a few moments before Mattsun echoed Makki’s sigh. He knew exactly what Makki meant, but had no idea where to even begin to help their friends. Hanamaki moved a few paces ahead and spun on his heel to walk backwards down the sidewalk in front of Matsukawa. 

He looked up just as the streetlights blinked on casting Makki in a halo of golden light. “Wanna come over and brainstorm?” Hanamaki asked, skillfully avoiding a tree root that had buckled the path. 

“I don’t know Makki. It’s already pretty late,” he said looking up at the darkening sky. 

“Come on, it's not that late.”

Makki slid into a shakily executed moon walk, feet gliding a few paces before he abruptly spun in a 360, stopping directly in front of Mattsun. 

He smiled wide and winked, tipping an imaginary fedora. “I’ve got the house to myself for a few hours.”

Matsukawa took two quick steps, closing the distance between them. Takahiro was only two inches shorter than Issei, but the height difference was enough to force him to tilt his head upward to keep eye contact with his boyfriend. 

“Wanna come over and make out?”

Mattsun leaned in slowly—eyes sparkling under the streetlights, but expression unreadable. 

“I-I’ll cook you dinner?” he breathed out, feeling his control slipping with the look Mattsun was pinning him with. Makki didn’t want to beg, but given how much time he’d spent today dreaming about strong arms lifting him up and pinning him against walls with thick fingers spreading him open. He’d drop to his knees in the street if Matsukawa asked him. 

Matsukawa tilted his head and touched his forehead to Makki’s. Their noses brushed and Makki’s eyes fluttered closed as his breath caught in his chest. But instead of feeling the press of lips against his own Mattsun leaned down to brush against his ear—a quiet hum sending a shiver through his limbs he couldn’t hide. He could feel Matsukawa’s lips stretch into a smile against his temple. “Okay. You convinced me.”

Makki let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine, and Mattsun laughed. “Issei...” He grabbed his hand and pulled him toward home. “We have to go right now.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back friends! I hadn’t planned on posting this so soon, but it’s too good not to share immediately. 
> 
> I don’t have a specific posting schedule, so I’ll plan to update as chapters are finished.
> 
> In the meantime, enjoy some smut!  
(ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ

Hanamaki found himself pressed flat against his bedroom door before he could even reach out to flip on the light. 

He took a shaky breath in as Matsukawa released the grip on his shoulders, sliding his hands up to press his palms into the door on either side of Makki’s head. 

His eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the darkness, but he could feel Mattsun’s lips so close to his own that his skin tingled. He tipped his face upward with lips parted, heart racing and chest heaving, silently pleading for contact. 

When he felt Mattsun pull back slightly he let slip a barely audible whine high in the back of his throat. He curled his fingers around Mattsun’s hips, gripping at the waistband of his uniform pants, but before he could take control his arms were pulled up over his head pinning him to the door. 

_ “Fuck...” _ he gasped into Mattsun’s mouth, still hovering over his own. “Issei...come on, don’t tease.” 

“Hmm...not teasing, Hiro,” he drawled, keeping his voice low. “I think you could call it...” Matsukawa tightened his grip on Makki’s arms as he leaned in to brush his lips against his ear and whispered, “...punishment.” He licked along the shell of his ear and bit down, drawing a startled moan from Makki. 

“P-punishment? Wha— _ aah _ ,” Makki cut off with a gasp when Mattsun forced his knee between his thighs and ground against him. 

“What’s wrong Takahiro? You told me yourself you were distracted. Don’t think you should be punished for thinking about someone else’s dick all through practice?” He lifted his knee higher pressing into Makki’s crotch and coaxing a low moan from his chest. 

Makki’s head was spinning at the contact, focus torn between Matsukawa’s strong hands pinning him to the door and the insistent bulge pressed into his hip. He opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips, replaced with a whimper when Mattsun growled into his ear, “Don’t lie to me, ‘Hiro.” 

It sounded like a threat, but Makki could feel the lopsided grin against his neck. He knew Mattsun wasn't truly angry with him. That didn’t make it any less torturous when he trailed his lips down Makki’s neck, licking and nipping at all the sensitive places he knew so well, careful not to leave a mark where it couldn’t be hidden. 

Mattsun lowered one of Makki’s arms while still keeping his grip tight on his wrists. The collar of Makki’s shirt slipped toward his shoulder, exposing his collarbone. He nuzzled there for a moment before biting down, sucking hard at the sensitive flesh. Makki’s spine snapped into a tight curve, hissing through clenched teeth as his head fell back against the door with a thud. 

Mattsun pulled back, a deep bruise already darkening against the pale flesh. He dragged his tongue over the indentations left in the skin, soothing and comforting before biting down hard again, this time pulling a startled moan deep from Makki’s chest and causing him to grind down desperately against Mattsun’s thigh. 

“Mmm...not...not jealous are you?” He tried to keep his voice steady, teasing, but Mattsun’s mouth was taking him apart piece by piece, already leaving his voice raw and tinged with breathless desire. Every bite sent sparks shooting through his limbs; every soothing press of tongue against bruised skin flaring embers behind his eyes. 

“No, baby. But why don’t you tell me what got you so fired up...hmm?” He released Makki’s wrists and lifted his forearms to the door, caging him in. He rolled his hips, grinding his hardened length against Makki’s—the friction eliciting a string of curses and sweet pleading gasps from his boyfriend. “Better yet, why don’t you show me.”

“Fuck.”

Searing mouths crashed together, a flurry of lips, and teeth, and tongues. Makki wrapped his arms around Mattsun, pulling him close as Mattsun placed a hand at his nape. He held Makki steady, carding fingers through his hair and deepening the kiss; slowing their frantic movements for a moment—comforting, distracting—and then he pulled, hungrily swallowing the shallow breaths and keening sounds slipping past Makki’s lips. 

Matsukawa broke the kiss and with one quick movement yanked Makki’s shirt up over his head, tossing it behind him. He tweaked one nipple, Makki crying out at the jolt, and took a step backward into the room, leaving Makki gasping against the door as he threw his own shirt aside. 

Moonlight shone through the window behind him casting the room in a faint glow, but Matsukawa’s face was in shadow. 

“Knees, Takahiro.” His voice was low, commanding. Makki moved forward without question. Sinking to his knees on the hardwood, the moonlight catching on his pale hair and sparkling eyes as he gazed upward, fingers twitching at his sides. 

Mattsun popped the button on his pants and threaded his fingers into Makki’s hair. 

“Show me.”

Hands darted out immediately at the command to free Mattsun’s length, the head already slick and glistening. Makki pressed kisses hot as fire into flesh, branding a trail from navel to sharp hip bones. 

He looked up at Mattsun, eyes heavily lidded and pupils blown, digging his fingers into those sharp hip bones. In one fluid motion he dragged his tongue from base to tip, flicking it over the slit. Then without breaking eye contact he slid his lips down over the swollen head, not stopping until it hit the back of his throat with his nose pressed into dark curls. 

_ “O-oh...shit,”  _ Mattsun choked out, fingers tightening in Makki’s hair. The slick wet heat set his body on fire, but it was the lewd scene before him—eyes challenging while pink lips swallow him down to the hilt—that almost did him in. “You’re so fucking pretty.” 

Makki keened at the praise, sending vibrations humming through Mattsun’s body. He pulled back slowly, hollowing out his cheeks and dragging his lips back to the tip before taking him back down to the base. 

He paused there, breathing through his nose, and gave Mattsun a pointed look—Mattsun’s eyes flashed with understanding. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

One hand moved to his jaw while the other stayed fisted in his hair. Mattsun gave a few shallow thrusts giving Makki time to adjust, but soon set an unforgiving pace, fucking hard into that scorching wet depth. 

_ “Fuck...” _ he growled, falling apart with every choke and keen he dragged from Makki’s throat. “Little cock slut. You look so good like this—with your lips stretched around my dick.” Makki moaned low and loud, tears streaming down his face mixing with drool and precome. 

Mattsun’s hips stuttered, thrusting deep once, twice, before he broke curling low over Makki’s head, air sucked from his lungs and his boyfriend’s name on his lips. 

He pulled back slowly; Makki swallowed hard, eyes closed and panting while a slow smile spread across his swollen lips. His face and chest were a slick mess from the assault on his mouth. At some point he had freed his own aching cock, fucking into his hand until he painted his stomach and fist with sticky ropes. 

“Come here, babe.” Matsukawa lifted his blissed out boyfriend off the floor, depositing him on the bed. He flipped on the bedside lamp, gently wiping him down with one of their discarded t-shirts before flopping beside him and pulling Makki onto his chest. 

He planted a soft kiss on the top of his head, and trailed lazy fingers over Makki’s shoulders. 

“Doing okay?” Matsukawa ran a soothing hand over Hanamaki’s cheek, tracing over dried tear tracks with the pad of his thumb. 

“So good,” Makki hummed contentedly. 

“You know, you did promise to make me dinner.” 

Makki snorted, nose pressed into Mattsun’s chest. “We both know my cooking didn’t bring you here.”

Matsukawa laughed, a low rumbling sound, and he felt Makki smile into his chest. Thinking back he’s pretty sure he’d never seen Hanamaki cook anything that didn’t have the word ‘instant’ stamped in bold letters on the package. 

“True. It was definitely the stellar dance moves. Who taught you how to move like that,” he wrapped his arms around Makki’s shoulders, “and how do I get them to stop?”

“Can’t stop, won’t stop.” 

“Babe. You did not just meme me.” 

Makki lifted his head and quirked an eyebrow, “ You mad bro?”

“Ugh, fine you memelord,” he groaned, sitting up and rolling a still boneless Makki off his lap. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up before your parents walk in on us.” He planted a wet kiss on Makki’s forehead. “Maybe I’ll make  _ you _ dinner.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to this wild rarepair adventure! 
> 
> I hope you’ve taken note of the new relationship tags, because I’m super excited about it.
> 
> This chapter is a bit dialogue heavy, but in like...the BEST way possible. <3

“Iwa-chan!”

Hajime struggled to control his heart rate, palms sweaty as he dragged Oikawa through the corridors away from their classroom. He glanced over his shoulder as he pulled his friend under the stairwell—the last thing he needed was Oikawa’s fan club hanging around. 

“Iwa-chan is such a brute,” Oikawa grumbled. He rubbed his wrist, pouting, but when he looked up and saw Iwaizumi slump against the wall with a sigh his expression morphed into one of concern. 

“Haji—“ 

“I don’t think I can do this,” Iwaizumi cut him off. His hands were fisted at his sides, chin tucked into his chest and eyes shut tight. “What if...what if this is a bad idea? What if they—“ 

“Stop.” Oikawa took a step forward into Iwaizumi’s space. He hooked his index finger under Iwaizumi’s chin, gently tipping his face upward. “Look at me, Hajime.” Iwaizumi took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as he opened his eyes.

“You can do this, Iwa-chan. I know you weren’t ready the other day...and I’m sorry I tried to push you,” Oikawa’s other hand reached out to grasp Iwaizumi’s, threading their fingers together, “but I don’t want to wait anymore. We can do this.”

“But...” he sighed and tried to turn his head away, but Oikawa held fast to his chin. “Tooru...what if we tell them, and they’re just disgusted?” 

Oikawa’s expression softened into something tender. He trailed his thumb along Hajime’s jawline, bringing long slender fingers up to cup one side of his face, fingertips brushing his hairline. Large eyes scanned his face, demanding all of Hajime’s attention and helping to quiet his racing thoughts. 

“They’re our best friends, Iwa-chan. They won’t judge us...and they deserve to know. Let’s just take it slow, okay?” He gave Iwaizumi’s hand a gentle squeeze and rested their foreheads together. “We can do this...just stick to the plan.”

*****

Plotting to set up their friends hadn’t exactly proven to be a simple task. Especially after they realized that between school, volleyball, and weekend hangouts the four spent most of their time together. 

They couldn’t quite figure out when or how it happened without either of them noticing. All they knew is that days later they still hadn’t solidified a strategy for their “Get Our Best Friends to Finally Realize They Love Each Other and Stop Pining” plan, and they have very little time to do their scheming between classes before they meet up with Iwaizumi and Oikawa. 

Today though the other pair waved them on after class saying they both had something to take care of before joining them for lunch, so Makki and Mattsun carried their lunches out to the courtyard and used the precious bit of time to review their options. 

“You know, at least the plan has a name.” Mattsun shrugged as he sat down on the grass next to Makki and pulled his bento out of his bag.

“That barely counts. It’s a terrible name! It’s so long. Why not something like...’Operation: You’re Blind Date’ or—”

“Makki, no puns. This is serious business.”

Hanamaki threw his hands up, “But Mattsun, it works on so many levels!” Matsukawa maintained his deadpan stare and when he quirked his eyebrow Makki groaned, leaning back on his hands and letting his head fall back. 

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but _ fine_, no puns.”

Mattsun sniffed and wiped away an imaginary tear, “Wow. Much proud. So impress.”

“Ha. Ha. Let’s just go over the list before they get out here.”

Secrecy aside, it’s not like they hadn’t had plenty of ideas. The problem was that so far their ideas had been...well, shaky at best. 

Makki ticked through his mental list, counting on his fingers between bites of his lunch. 

“We make plans for all four of us to hang out somewhere, and then we ditch them last minute. Boom! Surprise romantic evening.”

Too subtle, Matsukawa decided. They already hang out solo all the time, and that had gotten them nowhere. An impromptu dinner wouldn’t suddenly break them out of the friendship bubble if they were both going to keep being cowards about their feelings. 

“Okay, a slightly more direct approach then. We set each of them up on a blind date, but when they get to the restaurant guess who they find!?” Makki wiggled his eyebrows, and Mattsun laughed out loud. 

“That might be too direct. They’d probably think it was some kind of joke, and blame us for pranking them.” 

Makki thought about it for a moment before he shrugged, “Classic prank material, can’t argue with that.” 

One of the best options involved a very convoluted plan to throw different first and second years at Iwaizumi and/or Oikawa to flirt, thereby causing the other to get jealous of the attention and recognize their feelings for what they are. The problem with _ that _ was that Mattsun couldn’t get Makki to agree on who their accomplices should be. 

“I have it on good faith that both Kyotani and Kindaichi have it bad for Iwaizumi,” he huffed. “Which means they can’t be trusted. I am not about to ask for their help with this.” 

“For real though, is there anyone left who’s not on team Iwaizumi?”

“Ugh, I know,” Makki groaned. “Oikawa has his fan club. Iwa gets the rest of us.”

Mattsun hummed through a mouthful of rice. 

Most of the rest of Hanamaki’s contributions involve them “accidentally” locking the captain duo into various confined spaces and waiting, as Makki put it, “for the magic to happen.”

“I really can’t figure out what you think is romantic about being trapped in a small, dark, probably smelly janitors closet with another person,” Mattsun chuckled, shaking his head. 

_ “What!? _What about that one time we got stuck in the supply closet in the gym?” 

Mattsun looked up from his bento, eyebrows arched so high they almost disappeared into his hairline. “Do you mean first year?” 

“Hmm...yeah, I think so.”

“What the hell Makki?” Matsukawa threw his head back laughing, “You were the only one trapped in the closet. Oikawa and I found you sleeping in there when we went looking for a broom.”

“Oh...” Makki tapped his fingers against his chin trying to recall the details and then reached out with his chopsticks to pluck a piece of tempura out of Mattsun’s bento. “If that’s true, I had a great dream I’m going to have to tell you about later.”

Just then Oikawa appeared, Iwaizumi trailing a few steps behind.

_ “Yohoo~ _What are we talking about?” They settled into the grass, sitting so that they were facing each other and forming a circle with the two already sprawled out on the turf. 

“Serious business,” Makki said with a mischievous grin. 

He kept his expression blank, but Matsukawa gave Makki a look meant to scold. “Makki thought he and I had an erotic rendezvous in the supply closet that one time he was trapped.”

“Wait...weren’t you alone in that closet?” Iwaizumi turned to Makki with a confused look on his face. 

“He was! We found him sleeping with the mops!” Oikawa couldn’t take it. He clutched at his sides and folded in on himself, wheezing and falling over to lean against Matsukawa who could no longer fight to keep the smile off his face. 

“You two weren’t even dating when that happened,” he said to Matsukawa through his giggles. 

“Wait, really?”

“How do you know that,” Mattsun mumbled into the wavy brown tresses perched on his shoulder. 

Oikawa tensed and sat up, “Well, I mean, we hadn’t known each other long then. I just—” he cleared his throat and dug through his backpack avoiding making eye contact, “I thought maybe you were into someone else.”

Matsukawa kicked one leg out in front of him, wrapping his arms around his other bent knee. He cocked his head in Oikawa’s direction, “Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“Umm...” Oikawa blinked up at Mattsun through long dark lashes before turning his head to Hanamaki who was currently trying to balance a spoon on the tip of his nose. “Literally anyone else.” 

“Rude,” Makki gave them both the finger—the gesture losing some of its luster when accompanied with crossed eyes as Makki stared down his nose. 

“Can I have my spoon back?” Iwaizumi reached out and plucked it out of the air. “And I’ll take that,” he said leaning forward to swipe the milk bread Oikawa had dug out of his bag.

“Iwa-chan,” he whined, making grabby hands at the package. “My lunch!”

“_ That _ is not lunch. _ This _ is lunch.” He replaced the milk bread with a bento. Oikawa’s eyes went wide and mouths dropped open in unison on either side of him. 

“Iwa-chan...made me lunch?” 

“It’s not a big deal. I spent a lot of time in the kitchen yesterday...and I had to make mine anyway so...” he ran a hand through his hair, looking off to the side. “Practice has been tough this week. You can’t survive on milk bread alone, Shitty-kawa.”

“So domestic Iwa-chan,” Makki teased, nudging him with an elbow and earning him a scowl from his friend. 

Oikawa wasted no time unwrapping his lunch and they all marveled at how incredibly delicious everything looked. Makki gave Matsukawa a small smile across the circle, and he knew they were thinking the same thing as they watched the tips of Oikawa’s ears heat up—maybe these two didn’t need quite as big of a push as they thought. 

“I brought these too,” Iwaizumi said, producing a small white paper box tied up with twine. He deposited it in the center of the circle and busied himself with his lunch. 

The box was unmarked, but it looked like the type of thing you’d get from a bakery, and that usually meant...

“CREAM PUFFS!” Makki shouted, tearing into the package and promptly stuffing one into his mouth. His eyes went wide and the groan he made through stuffed cheeks was absolutely pornographic. “Where did you get these!? Did a new bakery open up?” 

Iwaizumi mumbled something unintelligible, very intently focused on moving things around in his lunch box. 

He plucked another one out of the box to shove toward Matsukawa.

“This is literally the best cream puff I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. All other pastries are trash—change my mind.” Makki cradled the box and popped another one in his mouth.

“Wow. These really are good.” 

_ “Iwa-chan~,” _ Oikawa leaned over his bento, eyes sparkling and one corner of his mouth drawn up into a smirk. “Tell them where you got them.” 

Iwaizumi set his bento down, “I—umm—“ he cleared his throat, and ran a hand along the back of his neck. “I was helping my mom so...” 

“Wait.” Makki sat straight up, clutching the box to his chest. “Iwaizumi, YOU made these!?”

“Ah...yeah,” he admitted softly, and when he looked up at the group they could see his cheeks were flushed with a dusty pink.

Hanamaki’s brain short circuited. Iwaizumi Hajime—was shy—and blushing—AND BAKED? It was too much to process all at once. 

“She needed help, and I know they’re your favorite so I—I made extra. It’s not really a big dea—_ Ahh!“ _ Iwaizumi shouted as he was cut off, forcibly tackled backwards into the grass by Hanamaki.

“Who are you and what have you done with Iwaizumi!?”

Matsukawa glanced at Oikawa who was watching the scene unfold with a look not unlike the one he wore on the court when Iwaizumi would send one of his tosses crashing through a high block. 

“Did you know he could bake like that?” 

Oikawa leaned forward with a smug grin, swiping a dollop of whipped cream off the pastry in Matsukawa‘s hand and depositing it on the tip of his nose. “Yep!” He said, with a _ pop _.

The self-satisfied grin faltered when Matsukawa responded in kind, leaving a smudge high across Oikawa’s cheekbone. He shrieked, wiping away the sticky goo, offended—definitely not flustered— when he saw his friend clean the rest of the whipped cream off his finger with a slow sweep of his tongue. 

Iwaizumi managed to extricate himself, leaving Hanamaki sprawled in the grass. He cleared his throat, “So, I know we planned on a movie marathon this weekend, but there’s this rock group I’ve been wanting to see and they’re playing a show downtown Saturday night.”

“I get it. Tempt us with sweets and you think you can get us to do anything,” Mattsun chuckled. 

“Which we obviously will!” Hanamaki shouted from his back, not bothering to lift his head from the grass. 

“Oh. I forgot. Makki is a slut for cream puffs,” Mattsun deadpanned. He dodged a halfhearted kick from Makki while the other two roared with laughter. 

A rock show, huh—now that’s an idea


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand we’re back! With IwaOi smut! o(≧∇≦o)
> 
> If you’d rather skip the really heavy stuff you can stop reading at “Always—they breathe into each other.”

Stars glowed in the darkness overhead. Soft kisses placed across skin echoed the constellations above, roughly arranged in patterns spreading out across the ceiling. 

The only sound that could be heard was gentle panting—puffs of hot breath over lean muscle. Tooru’s eyes fluttered, breath caught in his chest as Iwaizumi sucked a dark moon into the tender flesh at his hip. His fingers stroked reverently across the flat planes of Oikawa’s stomach, outlining each dip in his abdominals and leaving behind a trembling wake of goosebumps. 

He shifted, moving higher in the bed and supporting himself on one forearm while he continued his slow exploration; lips and fingers reducing Tooru to a quaking, breathless wreck below him. 

Iwaizumi paused his ministrations to circle his tongue around one nipple, sucking the nub between his lips and gently rolling his thumb over the other. 

Oikawa gasped, arching into the touch. “I-Iwa-chan—” 

He pulled back to lick a long stripe up Oikawa’s neck, humming. “I can’t stop thinking about today,” he muttered into his ear, trailing slow wet kisses along the sharp curve of his jawline. “You were so flustered.”

Oikawa huffed a small laugh; he could hear the smile in Iwaizumi’s voice. “I can’t believe Iwa-chan made me lunch. That— _ aah _ —that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Iwaizumi hummed, voice low, “I couldn’t be the only one blushing like a schoolgirl...and that was your entire plan.” 

“But Iwa-chan is so cute when he blushes! Did you see Makki’s face?” He whispered through quiet giggles, “I thought you broke him.”

“Him? What about me?” Iwaizumi snaked a hand between their bodies to cup Oikawa through his boxers, squeezing the head of his cock where the fabric was damp and stretched taut. “Did you hear that fucking noise he made?” He growled, pulling a low moan from Oikawa as he ground his palm down his length. 

“If he sounds like that over cream puffs— _ aah _ —imagine what he’d sound like bouncing on your big—hard—dick,” Oikawa growled in return, thrusting up into Iwaizumi’s hand to punctuate the last three words.

At that Iwaizumi sat back on his knees to pull Oikawa’s boxers down his thighs. “ _ Fuck— _ ” Hajime couldn’t stop the curse escaping his lips when he watched his length bob free, curving up and pulsing over his stomach. 

“You think I didn’t see your face when Matsukawa licked the whipped cream off his hand?” He wrapped thick fingers around the base, giving slow strokes that made Tooru keen. “I thought you were going to confess right there...” he said, voice low and rumbling. “Confess or fuck that pretty mouth of his,” he spit, words dripping with sin. 

Oikawa clamped a hand over his mouth, biting into the flesh of his palm to try and muffle his moans. The other hand twisted in the bedsheets when Iwaizumi stretched his lips over his cock, sending shivers through Oikawa’s limbs as he circled his tongue around the swollen head, lapping up salty beads of precome from the tip. 

It was so hard to keep his hips from thrusting up into that wet heat while Iwaizumi sucked and teased, hand still working over what his mouth couldn’t reach. With his free hand Iwaizumi pressed Oikawa’s hips to the bed, swallowing him down to the base once before releasing and leaning back to slide his own boxers off.

“Do you know why I made you lunch?” he asked, repositioning and resting on his forearms to hover over Oikawa’s mouth who answered with a small shake of his head. 

“I just didn’t want you to forget,” he whispered against Tooru’s lips. 

“Forget?”

Both hands came up to cup Oikawa’s face, and the look in his eyes made Tooru’s chest tighten. Their lips glided together in a chaste kiss, followed by another, and another. Tooru wrapped his arms around Hajime’s shoulders, fingers splayed out over his spine, the other hand sliding up the back of his neck to thread through his hair. 

When Iwaizumi flicked his tongue along Oikawa’s lower lip, he was met with a gasp that he eagerly swallowed before pulling back to rest their foreheads together. 

“Loving them doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

Oikawa lifted his chin to capture Iwaizumi’s mouth, tongue sliding between kiss swollen lips as he ground his leaking erection against Iwaizumi’s, pulling the air from both their lungs with a slow roll of his hips. 

Nights like these were Tooru’s favorite. He knows Hajime so well—knows how to speak his language, and can read between the lines most of the time. He knows that behind the grumpy scowl is concern; can spot the difference between annoyance and care. He can feel the meaning behind innocent touches; one arm around his shoulders— _ I care about you _ , knuckles brushing his own— _ I’m yours _ , a hand at his back— _ you’re mine. _

_ I love you. I love you. I love you.  _

But on nights like this when it was just the two of them, a tangle of limbs and humid mouths on flesh beneath artificial starlight, he didn’t have to read between the lines. Hajime whispered, imprinting promises into every inch of his skin. Filling him so full he thought his heart might burst. 

“How did I get so lucky?” He whispered between panting breaths.

“Don’t count yourself lucky yet. We don’t know how they’ll react.” Iwaizumi dragged his thumbs along sharp cheekbones. “You could end up with no friends...or three boyfriends.”

“And nothing in the middle?” He chuckled—gasping when Hajime resumed the lazy grind of his hips against Tooru’s. “Besides, that’s not true.” 

Oikawa pulled him down again to press their foreheads together, “I’d still have you.”

They came together, their gentle chaste kisses from before exchanged for the heated push and pull of lips and tongue. 

_ Always _ —they breathed into each other. 

After a few moments Hajime reached off to the side; Tooru heard the click of a bottle cap before his knees were pushed up to his chest, right leg held in place with one strong hand on his thigh. 

Slick digits circled his entrance and he inhaled sharply, clutching at Hajime’s broad shoulders as he pressed in, one finger working him open with slow steady drags until he passed the second knuckle. He tilted his hips, whining at the pressure but desperate for more—harder—faster—and it wasn’t not long before Iwaizumi added a second finger. 

_ “Iwa-ch—ahh!” _ Oikawa cut off with a throaty moan as Iwaizumi scissored his fingers open.

“Shh...” Iwaizumi whispered with a smirk, “not so loud.” He pressed in deep, repeating the action, and drawing another high keening sound from the quaking man beneath him. His eyes twinkled devilishly. He knew the slow touches and teasing drove Tooru up the wall, but he also loved to watch him lose control. 

He leaned forward to recapture Oikawa’s mouth with his own, tongue immediately darting past his lips to sweep against the others’. Without warning he curled his fingers and Tooru jolted—moans muffled around Iwaizumi’s tongue, a high whine squeezed from his throat. 

Hajime set an uneven pace, thrusting into Oikawa’s tight heat over and over. He curled his fingers to press hard against that sensitive spot again, changing up the interval until Tooru was left writhing against the bedsheets with legs spread and toes curling. 

Oikawa let out a gasp at the sudden emptiness when Iwaizumi pulled back, but he recovered quickly and suddenly Iwaizumi was the one gasping as Oikawa rolled them both to flatten him into the mattress. 

He reached out blindly to the nightstand feeling around for a condom and when he found it he tore open the corner of the package with his teeth, making quick work of rolling it over Iwaizumi’s swollen length. 

Iwaizumi retrieved the bottle of lube from the tangled sheets, slicking himself base to tip. He propped himself up on his elbows as Oikawa straddled him on his knees, one hand on Iwaizumi’s chest, and the other clutching his throbbing cock as he aligned the crown with his entrance. 

Hajime groaned, fighting to keep his hips still as Tooru sank down, chest heaving as he watched himself disappear inch-by-inch into that impossibly tight heat. 

Oikawa’s head tipped back, mouth slack in a breathless moan. “So gorgeous,” Iwaizumi sighed, gazing up at him, the words pulled from his chest, certain in that moment that he’d never seen anything more beautiful.

They were both gasping for air when their hips finally met. “ _ Fuck— _ you feel so good,” Hajime choked out between clenched teeth. “Just...just give me a second.”

Oikawa grabbed Iwaizumi by his shoulders, yanking him up to a sitting position, and crashed their mouths together in an uncoordinated mess of lips and tongue. His thighs were already shaking with the thick pressure—burning heat flaring inside him. With their chests pressed together he could feel his heart pounding out a quick rhythm with Hajime’s.

Iwaizumi reclined slightly, bracing one arm behind him to keep himself propped up. Steely eyes locked onto Oikawa’s face, and the other arm came up to skim along his hip and rib cage, which Tooru took as a signal to move. 

He started with slow shallow thrusts, lifting his hips just an inch at a time before sinking back down. Every gruff whisper of breath from the man below him chipped away at his composure. He rode that throbbing arousal, sliding higher until the cock filling him was almost fully unsheathed before slowly sinking back down, and grinding his hips at the bottom. Hajime dug his fingers into Oikawa’s hip and the thundering groan torn from Iwaizumi’s lungs destroyed Tooru’s last remaining shred of control. 

With strong thighs and hands braced on Hajime’s shoulders, Oikawa raised and dropped his hips, back arched and releasing breathy whimpers as he impaled himself over and over.

Iwaizumi couldn’t hold back any longer. With feet planted on the bed he thrust upward, nearly lifting Oikawa’s knees from the mattress. 

_ “I-Iwa-chan.”  _ His voice was wrecked. Every nerve pulsing with energy, barely supporting himself on trembling legs as Iwaizumi fucked up into him. “I...I need...”

“I know, baby...I’ve got you.” 

One strong arm snaked around his side and across his back, and he found himself pulled forward as Iwaizumi fell back onto the mattress. Oikawa caught himself with his forearms on either side of Iwaizumi’s head, bringing his hips down at the perfect angle for Iwaizumi to thrust into his prostate. 

“Come for me, Tooru,” Hajime whispered, wrapping his fingers around Oikawa’s flushed dick and pumping his hand in time with the pistoning of his hips. 

Oikawa’s breathy cries poured into Hajime’s open gasping mouth. His body clenched hard around Iwaizumi, dragging him over the edge as he came hot over his stomach. 

They rode out the waves of their orgasm together, holding each other impossibly close; mouths connected, fingers twining through hair, breathing into each other

_ —always. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Are you feeling that slow burn yet? 
> 
> Dont’ worry. These boys will figure it out some day. Right? ....RIGHT?!
> 
> I call this chapter, An Ode to Iwaizumi’s Slammin’ Bod. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)
> 
> <3

“You seem...excited.” 

Matsukawa smirked, casting a sideways glance at Hanamaki who was practically vibrating with nervous energy on the sidewalk next to him. They waited for a car to pass before crossing the street, the sun shining brightly overhead. 

“I am excited!” Makki exclaimed, looping his arm through Mattsun’s who had his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. “We almost never get to go on real dates. Plus, step one of Operation: Iwaoi begins today!” 

Mattsun threw his head back, laughter echoing down the street, “Operation _ what _?”

“Iwaoi. I’m still working on a name for the plan, and that’s what you get when you combine their names. It’s good right?” 

“You combined their names? Like a celebrity couple? Like...like Brangelina or...or Kimye?” He stuttered through laughter, wiping his eyes on the sleeve not twined with Makki’s. “That is absurd.” 

“You told me no puns, Mattsun!” Makki shouted incredulously. “This is what you get!”

“Fine, fine. But can you really call this a date if we didn’t plan any of it...and have two other people tagging along?”

“Listen, Linda. We’re getting dressed up. We’re getting ramen. We’re going to a show. It’s a double date—whether Iwaizumi and Oikawa know that, or not.”

Mattsun hummed, pulling Makki closer as another couple passed them moving the opposite direction. Despite the teasing, Matsukawa was also excited about the prospect of taking his boyfriend out on a real date, and the idea that Iwaizumi and Oikawa would be there too set his heart beating a little faster in his chest.

“You know, since we’ve started this I’ve been thinking...Do you ever get the feeling that we’re missing something with the two of them?” Mattsun asked, thick brow furrowed in thought. 

“What do you mean?” Makki asked, sending a small stone flying a few paces ahead with a light kick. 

“I don’t know,” Mattsun sighed, swinging his foot to boot the stone a few more paces once they reached it again. “It’s just...I can’t—” _ get them out of my head...wait, that’s not... _ “It’s not really them. I’ve just been thinking—” _ about covering Oikawa in whipped cream...what, no!? _His eyes widened for a fraction of a second...where did that come from? He shook the thought loose, “Just...just forget it. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Makki stopped, turning to face Mattsun and staring up into his eyes, expression tinged with confusion and concern. “Hey, what is it?” he asked, grabbing Mattsun’s hand to interlace their fingers. “Babe, you’re making a scary face.” Matsukawa narrowed his eyes before Hanamaki turned serious, “You know you can talk to me.”

Mattsun smiled down at Makki, “I know. It’s really nothing...I think?” 

“You think? Wow, that is...not convincing at all,” Makki laughed. “Come here you big idiot,” he grabbed Mattsun by the collar of his jacket and pulled their mouths together. 

“I love you,” he whispered as they parted.

“I know,” Mattsun responded, expression neutral. 

Makki gasped, taking a step back, “Matsukawa Issei, are you implying that you are Han Solo in this scenario?” 

Matsukawa hummed, a slow smile spreading across his face, “And you, Hanamaki Takahiro, are the princess. Which I’ve found to be true in most scenarios.” He dodged a smack from Makki and planted another kiss on him before grabbing his hand to drag him the last block to Iwaizumi’s house. 

*****

The door swung open and Makki choked hard on an inhale. Mattsun smacked him on the back as he coughed into his fist. 

Iwaizumi stood before them, broad shoulders filling the doorway, wearing the tightest black T-shirt either one of them had ever seen. How he got it on over those shoulders—and pecs, and _ those arms_—without a team of people to help was beyond comprehension. 

He was watching the mess that is Hanamaki with his arms crossed over his broad chest, biceps bulging. 

Matsukawa couldn’t keep the wide grin off his face. He quirked an eyebrow at Iwaizumi, “Bro, do you even lift?”

Hajime laughed, tilting his head back to expose his neck, collar bones visible through the V of his neckline. “Nice to see you too,” he drawled. The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk, and his eyes twinkled with something mischievous. 

_ ‘Dangerous’ _—Mattsun thought to himself. 

“Come on in, you can drop your stuff in the den. That’s where we’ll be crashing.” He moved down the hallway. 

“Pardon the intrusion,” Makki and Mattsun called out simultaneously as they stepped into the hall, sliding off their shoes to follow Iwaizumi.

“It’s just us. Parents are visiting my grandparents this weekend, so we’ve got the house to ourselves,” they heard Hajime call from down the hall.

On socked feet Makki and Mattsun moved toward the den to find Iwaizumi in the midst of rearranging furniture. “That’s why we’re crashing in here. Figured we’d pass out watching movies anyway. This way we can spread out the futons instead of fighting over couch space.” 

Makki and Mattsun dropped their bags along the back wall. “Need help with that?” Mattsun asked, watching Iwaizumi wrestle with a pile of futon cushions. 

“Actually, I think Makki and I can get this. Could you run next door and get Oikawa?” He asked, glancing at the clock hung on the wall. “He was supposed to be here a while ago.”

“Aye-aye, vice-captain.” Mattsun gave Hajime a salute as he headed back down the hall. 

“If he’s still doing his hair don’t hesitate to drag his ass over here. He can get ready with us,” Iwaizumi shouted down the hall after him drawing a chuckle from Makki. 

They heard the front door close with a click. “Okay,” Iwaizumi clapped his hands together, turning to Hanamaki who was still standing by the doorway, ears tipped in pink, “let’s set up these futons.”

*****

“Come in,” Matsukawa heard faintly through the door. He turned the handle and stepped inside to find a mop of brown hair moving down the hall toward him. 

“Oi, Iwa sent me to collect you. He says you’re late.” Mattsun grinned at the man in front of him. Oikawa was a lot of things, but prompt was not one of them and they all knew it. He’d probably never make it to school in the mornings without Iwaizumi living next door making sure he was out the door on time. 

“But Mattsun, I can’t go like this!” Tooru whined, scrubbing at his eye with a towel and finally looking up at Matsukawa. 

“What the hell happened to your face?” Mattsun questioned. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his eyebrows shot up betraying him. 

“Rude, Mattsun.” Oikawa blinked up at him, pulling the towel away. One eye had a very shakily drawn cat-eye and the other was smudged with black where he had presumably been trying to erase his mistake. Tooru stumbled back down the hall toward the bathroom and Matsukawa followed. 

“Can you just help me?” He pouted, scrubbing at the dark smear over his other eye. 

“Okay, stop that,” he said, swiping the rag from Oikawa’s hand. “You’re going to hurt yourself. The skin around your eyes is sensitive.” He stepped forward, lifting his hand to Oikawa’s face and gently running his fingertips underneath his eye. 

“I can’t draw a wingtip to save my life, but I can help you get this off,” he smiled staring closely at the charcoal smudges ringing both eyes. 

“Okay,” Oikawa breathed out. Matsukawa snapped to attention, pulling his hand back abruptly and taking a half step back in the small bathroom. He was so close just now—so close to his face, his mouth, those pouty lips—“Okay! What do we have here?” He said a little too loudly, turning to sort through the products Oikawa had spread out across the bathroom counter. 

He located a small bottle of makeup remover and some cotton pads. “Close your eyes,” he directed Tooru, steeling himself before leaning in close again to gently wipe the mess away. 

Once he had rid Tooru of his two black eyes he pulled back to help clear the countertop of the scattered makeup products. Oikawa grabbed his hand when he picked up the eyeliner. 

“Mattsun,” he hesitated for a second before pressing on. “Can I practice on you? I know I can do it, it’s just really hard to do on yourself.”

Matsukawa opened his mouth to object, but something in Oikawa’s expression made him pause. His skin tingled where Tooru’s fingers grasped his. 

“Umm...okay,” he said in a quiet voice. _ ‘I can always take it off if it looks bad,’ _ he thought as Oikawa slid the liner out of his grip. 

Oikawa maneuvered him backward to perch on the edge of the bathtub. He stepped between Matsukawa’s spread legs and leaned in close, eyeliner in hand. 

After a few moments Tooru asked in a quiet, but confident voice, “What are you wearing tonight?” 

Mattsun could feel his breath in puffs across his eyelids. 

“Uhh...black?” He opened his eyes to see Oikawa staring down at him. 

“Perfect.” 

*****

Hanamaki and Iwaizumi stood back to admire their handiwork. 

They opted to arrange the futons side-by-side between the TV and loveseat, which they pulled away from the back wall toward the center of the room to make the space more cozy. The futons were flanked on one side by a longer sofa, and a wall on the other side. 

Most impressive is that Hanamaki somehow managed to not melt into a puddle while being forced to witness Iwaizumi’s muscles up close in clothing that was so tight it looked like it had been painted on. _ ‘At this rate it...might be a long night,’ _ he thought, swallowing hard as he watched Iwaizumi stretch his arms up over his head exposing a strip of skin along his waistline. 

Hajime checked his phone with a smirk, typing out a quick reply to someone. “Let’s get ready. Sounds like those two are gonna be a minute. You can take this bathroom, and I’ll take the upstairs.” 

Makki dug through his bag; outside of gym clothes and the assigned school uniform Makki chooses to dress very eclectically. He likes bright colors, and loud patterns. He loves mixing colors and textures that you wouldn’t automatically assume go together. 

The outfit he had chosen for the concert paired a black and white striped v-neck with a baggy, wacky patterned zip-up hoodie. The sweatshirt was almost a patchwork of sorts; large color-blocks of plum, teal, mustard, and tan arranged haphazardly. He finished off the look with dark wash skinny jeans, and mustard yellow high-top sneakers. 

It didn’t take him long to change and style his hair. He dropped his bag back in the den and headed to the kitchen, leaning back against the center island to wait on Iwaizumi. 

Not long after, he heard footsteps down the stairs and it was a good thing Makki heard him coming, because there wasn’t much that could have prepared him for the sight of Hajime appearing around the corner. 

He was still wearing the T-shirt from before under a blue and black flannel shirt left open in the front, the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. His sweatpants were swapped out for a pair of black jeans with ripped knees. Makki couldn’t tear his eyes away with denim hugging every curve so perfectly, highlighting thick muscular thighs and an ass he’d like to sink his teeth into. 

“Iwa, how the fuck did you get into those pants?” He wondered, eyes raking over every delicious curve._ ‘Oh shit, did I say that out loud?’ _

“That, my friend, is a secret,” Iwaizumi gave him a half-smile with one hand on his hip. He took another step toward Makki, “But I may need help getting them off later.” With a wink he popped a black baseball cap onto his head, facing the bill backward. 

If Makki’s face wasn’t red before it sure was now. He could feel the blush creep across his cheeks, but it was accompanied by another feeling, a tightening in his chest. 

“Oi, Makki. Close your eyes,” Iwaizumi walked to the other side of the counter behind Hanamaki. 

“What? Why?” He threw a glance over his shoulder where Hajime was standing with his arms crossed, a playful gleam in his eye. 

“Come on, just trust me. Close your eyes.” 

“O-okay...” Makki turned back around, elbows propped on the counter, “they’re closed.” 

He heard the refrigerator door open and close followed by soft footsteps across the tile floor. Even with eyes closed he could tell Iwaizumi was close; Makki could smell his sweet musky cologne, could feel the heat from his chest as he inched closer to where he leaned against the counter. 

“Open your mouth,” Hajime whispered into his ear. A shiver ran down his spine and he obeyed without question, heart pounding in his chest. 

“Good,” he heard faintly; unsure whether uttered in praise or as a question, but he couldn’t stop the tiny whimper that escaped his slack jaw. 

He felt something slide between his parted lips and across his tongue, sugary and cold. His eyes flashed open, “Cream puffs?”

“Yeah,” Hajime said with a shy smile. “Technically profiteroles...I froze these for this weekend.” 

“Iwaizumi, you are something else.” Makki laughed around a mouthful of frozen pastry. The bashful look he got in return just about stopped his heart. _ ‘Fuck—It’s going to be a very long night.’ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darlings! <3
> 
> Just know that I don’t mean to make you suffer...it’s these 
> 
> DAMN 
> 
> clueless 
> 
> boys!
> 
> ( ˘ ³˘)♡

“Is...is that eyeliner?” Hanamaki blinked several times in succession. “And are you wearing glasses?”

Oikawa leaned against the open door frame with his arms crossed. Matsukawa stood just over the threshold, hands tucked in his pockets. They shared the same smug expression. 

“Umm...Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki’s voice was shaky. He clutched at the front of Iwaizumi’s flannel shirt, fingers twisted in the fabric, eyes pinned to the pair in the doorway. 

“Yes, Makki?”

“Is...Is that my boyfriend?”

“Which one?” He could hear the amusement in Hajime’s gruff voice.

“The pretty one,” he breathed out.

Iwaizumi waited a beat before responding, “You’re gonna have to be more specific, buddy.”

Makki whined, releasing his grip on Iwaizumi and darting across the room to grab Matsukawa’s wrist. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, shoving past Oikawa and dragging Mattsun toward the bathroom without waiting for a response.

*****

Makki dragged Mattsun down the hall, spinning around to press his shoulders to the door as soon as they were inside the bathroom. “Did Iwaizumi just call both of you pretty?! What the fuck is happening out there?”

“I...I don’t know.” Mattsun sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. 

_ “Fuck—” _ Makki pulled back, pacing the small room with both hands pressed into his temples. “You’re wearing eyeliner—which is really, really hot by the way. Oikawa and his stupid—beautiful face—and glasses. Iwa and his fucking— _ hnngh _—feeding me—cream puffs,” the words grind out through clenched teeth. 

Matsukawa had been nodding along to Makki’s ranting, but startled at the last confession. “Hold on, he did what?”

“Issei, he fed me cream puffs. He told me to close my eyes, and he...he whispered in my ear, and he—fed—them—to—me!” Makki sank to the floor in a heap. “I think he’s trying to kill me. They’re both trying to kill me.”

Mattsun laughed at that. “I...ah...had a weird moment with Oikawa, too.” He flexed the fingers that Tooru had held and his mind flashed with images of pouty lips, soft skin, and chocolate eyes rimmed with charcoal. “He screwed up his makeup, so I helped him take it off.” 

“So, why are you the only one wearing makeup?” Hanamaki lifted his head from his hands, looking up at Mattsun from the floor. 

“He said he...uh...wanted to...practice...” he slowly trailed off. 

“Practice?! Issei,” Makki pointed a finger up at Mattsun’s face, “those are not the makeup skills of an amateur.”

“I know. Fuck—” Mattsun slid down the door, joining Makki on the floor. “Do you think they’re messing with us?”

They were both quiet, staring at their feet and replaying the events of the last few weeks over in their heads. Images scrolled through Matsukawa’s mind of soft brown curls resting on his shoulder, glances exchanged that were laced with _ something _, breath ghosting across his face. 

“I feel like we’re being played,” Makki said cautiously, “but I don’t think they’d do it to mess with us. Not about this...”

“Takahiro, what is _ this _?”

Makki shook his head, folding forward and pressing the heel of his hands against his eyes with a sigh. In a small voice he said, “I wanted to kiss him, Issei. I wanted to kiss him so bad, and then...you and Oikawa walked in, and I wanted...” 

Matsukawa leaned forward, long arms reaching out to envelop Makki, pulling him close to his chest. “It’s okay,” he whispered, pressing Makki’s face against the dip in his shoulder. 

“It’s not okay. Flirting is one thing, but this is...I’m the worst boyfriend. God...I’m so sor—”

“Don’t!” Mattsun gripped Makki harder, burying his face in his strawberry locks. “Don’t. You don’t have to apologize. I...think I know how you feel.”

Hanamaki braced his hands on Mattsun’s chest, pushing back and gazing up at him with watery eyes threatening to spill over. 

“I love you,” Matsukawa slid his hands around to cup the sides of Makki’s face. “That will never change. And I think...maybe I...” 

_ ‘Maybe I love them too...’ _

He didn’t say it out loud, but Hanamaki’s eyes widened for a split second. Matsukawa watched the guilt lift like a veil, replaced with understanding and...relief?

Makki brought his hands up, wrapping his fingers around Mattsun’s wrists. He let out a shaky breath, “What do we do now? How does the plan work to get them together if...if we...”

“I hate to break it to you babe, but we didn’t have much of a plan to begin with.” Makki looked a little annoyed, but Mattsun knew he couldn't really argue. They never did agree on a strategy, and now it felt like they needed to do some serious fact finding before they could even begin to help their friends. That is, if their friends even need help. 

Matsukawa also knew that there were a thousand things that could go wrong here. Hell, they could be misreading the situation entirely, but something crystallized in him the moment his hand touched Tooru’s cheek. 

“I don’t know what this is, but let’s just see where it goes, yeah?” 

Hanamaki hesitated, face clouded with uncertainty. “Are you sure you’re okay with that? With what that might...lead to?”

He leaned in, lips pressing gently against Makki’s, “I’m sure if you are.” He stood, extending his palm to Hanamaki, “Come on, before they come looking for us.”

*****

“Aww, Iwa-chan thinks I’m pretty?” Oikawa chirped. As soon as Mattsun and Makki disappeared around the corner he strode across the room to wrap his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck. 

“Everyone thinks you’re pretty,” Hajime rested his hands on Tooru’s hips. “Then you open your mouth and let loose that terrible personality.”

“Iwa-cha—!?” Oikawa gasped. His cry was cut short when Iwaizumi’s mouth collided with Tooru’s, tongue instantly delving in between parted lips as he pulled their bodies together. 

When Hajime pulled back for air, Tooru drawled, “I take it phase one went well?”

“I guess...” Hajime sighed, stepping back to lean against the counter, arms winding loosely around Oikawa’s middle. He let out a frustrated groan, “I’m just so fucking uncomfortable. Why do I have to wear _ this _,” he waved a hand up and down at his skin-tight clothing, “when you get to wear a sweater?”

Oikawa stepped back, looking down at his outfit. His grey skinny jeans hugged his firm calves and muscular thighs. The rest of his attire was more relaxed; a leather band around his wrist, light brown long-sleeved shirt underneath a navy cardigan that hung mid-thigh, most of his wavy hair was tucked into a slouchy grey beanie. He adjusted his glasses, looking back up with a shrug, “Iwa-chan has a different role to play than I do.” 

“Well, I hate it,” Hajime huffed. “Why can’t we just tell them?”

“This coming from the man who wanted to keep it a secret forever,” Oikawa retorted with an eyebrow raised over the rim of his glasses. “Iwa-chan we went over this. We have to make sure they’re at least interested before we just come out with it.”

Iwaizumi’s head fell back, another frustrated growl rumbling from his chest. “Fine, I get it.” He tilted his head back down, locking eyes with Tooru. The normal timber of his voice carried a fiery edge, “But there’s no way Makki’s not interested, and if he keeps whimpering like that I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

They heard the bathroom door click open across the hall and Oikawa giggled, crossing the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water.

“All good?” Iwaizumi asked Hanamaki as he stepped through the door, hopping up to sit on the countertop. 

“Yeah. He’s just changing, and we can head out.” 

The three of them wait in silence. 

Hajime wracked his brain trying to come up with something to say, something to break the tension that seems to have settled over the room. He opened his mouth, but before he could make a sound they heard the bathroom door click open again and footsteps coming down the hall.

“Woah,” Iwaizumi said, quickly trying to hide his exclamation behind a cough. 

Tooru was not as lucky. He turned toward the door just as he took a drink and spewed water all over the counter. “What—what the hell Mattsun,” he said, coughing and sputtering. “Since when do you own leather pants?” 

The corner of Matsukawa’s lip quirked upward, “We are going to a rock show you know.” And he definitely looked the part. He was wearing a black V-neck, though not as tight as Iwaizumi’s, along with an assortment of necklaces; chains and cords of different lengths, some with charms and beads. Over top he pulled on a black zip-up hoodie with a thick band of white cutting horizontally through the midsection. All the black and the leather perfectly highlighted the sharp cat-eye and touch of mascara on his lashes. 

He jutted one hip out, showing off the cut of his leather pants with a hand propped on his waist. “Are we ready to do this thing, or what?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up! This is like double the usual chapter length, but I didn’t want to split it. (>_<)
> 
> If you’re interested the song they sing is [Poprocks & Coke // Green Day](https://youtu.be/PNkGgZo6_uY)

An awkwardness settled over the group that followed them to the train station. The four stood in silence on the platform, markedly avoiding eye contact and waiting for their train to arrive. 

As much as Tooru wanted to break the tension he considered it a necessary part of his plan, opting to hang back and observe. Judging by the light blush still slowly receding from Makki’s face, and the lingering glances from Matsukawa in both his and Iwaizumi’s directions, he was almost certain that his friends shared their feelings. 

There was so much at stake though, he had to be sure. 

The platform was busy and Tooru could see by the looks on Makki and Mattsun’s faces that they ended up pressed closer together in the car than they would have preferred given the current atmosphere. Still, when Iwaizumi reached up to steady himself as the train departed, brushing his arm against Hanamaki’s shoulder, Makki didn’t pull away. He stiffened, but instead of recoiling, Tooru saw him shift, subtly leaning into the contact, a quiet smile pulling at his lips. 

Oikawa had chosen a ramen restaurant near the music venue just a few stops down the line, someplace that none of them had ever been, but offered enough options that they would all be happy. 

Luckily, the walk from the station helped to clear the air. Despite all their knees knocking under the small table, once they were seated with heaping bowls of noodles in front of them the awkwardness from before was all but forgotten. 

“Makki, I dare you to try Iwaizumi’s ramen,” Matsukawa said, flashing a Cheshire grin across the table. 

Hanamaki, Mattsun, and Tooru had ordered traditional style ramen, but Iwaizumi went straight for the hot stuff. The smell alone was enough to make the other three sweat.

“Challenge accepted,” Makki drawled reaching his chopsticks out to grab a bite from Iwaizumi’s bowl, but just as he was about to pop it in his mouth—

“Without making a face,” Mattsun interjected. 

His confident expression faltered for just a second before he returned Mattsun’s wide grin. Oikawa grabbed his arm, snickering and dramatically gasping, “Don’t do it Makki-chan! It’s not worth it!”

He downed the fiery bite in one quick gulp, setting his chopsticks down to make intense eye contact with Mattsun across the table. He maintained a convincing poker face, mouth set in a hard line while Oikawa cheered him on. Soon though, his brow started to tremble with the effort and he cracked not long after. The table erupted in laughter, and three arms shot out to offer water as he tilted his head back, breathing fire into the air. 

Makki blindly grabbed for a glass, gulping it down to try and soothe the flames on his tongue. “ Oh God,” he gasped, “mistakes were made.”

“You never learn,” Iwaizumi chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he took another large bite. “Hurry up or we’re gonna miss the headliner.”

*****

The club where the show was being played was decently sized and hosted ever-changing entertainment. Posters lining the walls of the entry advertised open-mic comedy, karaoke, and local musicians of all genres. The boys made their way past the bar and toward the stage, the venue already packed with people standing shoulder-to-shoulder. The opening band had already started their set, the sound of electric guitar and drums filling the space.

“Hey,” Iwaizumi leaned in so they could hear over the band, “anyone else want a soda?”

“Sure!” Oikawa chirped, and Makki nodded his head. Hajime turned to make his way back toward the bar, but Matsukawa stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

When Iwaizumi turned his face toward him Mattsun leaned into his ear. Their cheeks brushed together as he slid his hand lower to grip around Iwaizumi’s bicep, and Hajime rested his hand lightly on Matsukawa’s waist. “You stay. You’re the one who wanted to see the show.” Mattsun twisted to look at Oikawa who was taking them with as neutral of an expression as he could manage, “We can go.”

“O-oh, okay. Thanks guys,” Hajime let his hand fall from Mattsun’s side, bringing it up to scratch at the back of his neck.

Oikawa and Mattsun threaded their way through the crowd, squeezing into an open spot at the counter. The music was still loud, but they were standing close enough that they didn't have to yell to hear each other. 

“Can I ask you something?” Mattsun said, tipping his head toward Oikawa’s. 

“Of course! What is it?” Oikawa wasn’t sure what to expect and his expression gave nothing away. He knew Matsukawa was generally perceptive, and the atmosphere between them had been vibrating somewhere between a stifling awkwardness and something that felt charged with explosive energy. It made him nervous. 

“I’ve just been wondering. Well, Makki and I have been wondering...” just then the bartender spotted them, asking for their order. 

Oikawa held up his fingers, “Four Cokes, please!” The bartender nodded, turning away, and Tooru turned a bright smile back to Matsukawa. “Sorry, Mattsun. What were you wondering?” 

“We’re wondering if there’s anyone that you like...or maybe...have a crush on.” Mattsun stated it very matter-of-factly. The question was clear, but it was obvious from his tone that he wasn’t really pushing for an answer. 

_ ‘Besides you, and your adorable boyfriend...” _ he thought, quirking an eyebrow. 

“Hmm...why do you ask?” Someone wedged their way into the empty space behind him forcing Tooru to turn sideways and shuffle a half step closer to Matsukawa, leaving just a breath of space between them. 

Looking up into those hooded brown eyes, he ached to close the distance, to feel that same electricity he felt with Mattsun’s hands on his cheekbones. The feeling was overwhelming standing this close. He was really starting to regret tricking Mattsun into wearing eye makeup. It was so distracting he couldn’t think straight.

“I don’t know. We just want you—you and Iwa both—” 

Oikawa’s heart stuttered in his chest.  _ ‘Wait—That sounded like...and the way he touched Iwa-chan. Does...does he know?’ _

“—to be happy.” 

Tooru stared at him a bit dumbfounded, trying not to let it show on his face.

“We love you guys. You’re our best friends,” Mattsun shrugged.

_ ‘Oh, right.’ _ It was hard not to be disappointed, but he was getting ahead of himself—ahead of the plan. They were supposed to take it slow, and yet here he was ready to skip ahead to the end. Ready to feel those long fingers dance over his skin. Ready to grind his length into Mattsun’s leather-clad thigh. Ready to taste his... _ ’What.The.Fuck—Focus!’ _

“So...do you like someone?” Matsukawa tipped his head toward Oikawa, pinning him with a dangerous gaze. There was a playful edge to his voice that made Oikawa’s heart race and his lips were  _ so close _ . If he just leaned a little farther he could—

_ ‘Damn it. Stick to the plan...’ _

He flinched with a startled gasp when the bartender returned, dropping four uncapped bottles of soda onto the counter in front of them and snapping Oikawa out of his trance. 

He paid for the drinks and handed two bottles to Matsukawa. “Yeah, you could say that,” he said with a smirk, trying to shake the violent need building up inside him as they made their way back through the crowd. 

*****

“Hey,” Hanamaki grinned at Iwaizumi, “you wanna move closer?”

“What about them?” He gestured to where Matsukawa and Oikawa had just disappeared into the crowd. 

“Ah, come on. That’ll take them forever. It sounds like this set is almost over. We’ll find them after,” he said with a shrug. The stage lights made his eyes sparkle mischievously as he watched the corner of Iwaizumi’s mouth quirk upward. Makki flashed him a peace sign, “YOLO!”

He laughed, spinning Makki around by the shoulders and pushing him forward through the crowd. They worked their way as far into the throng as they could, stopping just a few feet from the front of the stage. 

Makki turned sideways, guiding Iwaizumi to stand in front of him. He draped one arm over Hajime’s left shoulder and hung his head over the right speaking directly into his ear. “Shorties get to stand up front.” 

“What the fuck—I’m like two inches shorter. I’m not short.” He shot him a sideways glare. 

“Shorter~” Makki hummed. He tipped his head closer, breathing into Hajime’s ear, “That’s okay. You’re small, but mighty.”

He couldn’t hear it over the bass, but with his chest pressed against Iwaizumi’s back he could feel the growl ripple through them both. Iwaizumi ground his hips backward, at the same time bringing his hand up to hold Makki’s head in place, lips ghosting at his temple. “I’m gonna make you eat those words—Takahiro.” 

His heart somersaulted in his chest when he heard his name thunder into his ear and he pressed back in response to the roll of Iwaizumi’s hips. “We’ll see—Hajime.”

They turned their attention back to the band, bodies pressed together in the crowd as they moved to the music, hearts thumping along to the wild beat of the drums. 

*****

They found Matsukawa and Oikawa near the bar where they had managed to snag one of the tall cocktail tables scattered around the back of the room, claiming it as home-base. 

The crowd thinned a bit, quieting down while the next band prepared. The four boys passed the time sipping their sodas, and reminiscing about their favorite concerts. The group they were here to see tonight played some original songs, but were mostly known for their covers of American punk-rock groups, so it was a good mix of all their interests. Before long the crowd roared back to life as the headliner took the stage. 

They dove straight into the first song, an original with high energy and heavy bass lines. Around their little table heads bobbed and toes tapped along to the beat. When the song was over they sailed straight into the next, an upbeat bouncy guitar riff echoing through the room. 

_ “Wherever you go, you know I’ll be there,” _ the lead singer belted out. 

“Yeah! I love this song,” Hanamaki shouted.  _ “If you go far. You know I’ll be there,” _ he sang along with the words. 

Oikawa laughed, throwing an arm over Makki’s shoulder, “Hey, this could be our theme song!”

They cheersed, clinking their soda bottles together and leaning on each other as they sang along. 

_ “You name the time, you know I’ll be there,” _ Matsukawa sang into his bottle like a microphone, leaning toward Iwaizumi.  _ “I’ll go anywhere.”  _

_ “So I’ll see you there,”  _ Hajime responded, laughing and belting into his own bottle-microphone. 

Mattsun draped himself over Oikawa and Makki, who were now singing into the same pretend microphone. Hajime watched the three of them, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

At times he had been so caught up in his own thoughts since Oikawa first mentioned wanting to confess to them that he had almost forgotten why they started this in the first place. In this moment though, seeing his friends—the three men he loved and admired most in the world—together and happy, nothing else mattered. 

Makki pulled him into the group serenade and they all sang along, arms draped over each other or leaned against the table as the band played through their set list. 

As they neared the end of the show Iwaizumi gathered their empty bottles to carry them to the recycling station. “I’ll help,” Oikawa chirped, snatching two of the bottles out of Iwaizumi’s grasp. 

“Definitely didn’t need help with four empty bottles, but thanks, I guess?” Hajime rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. 

They dropped their load into the bin and Tooru turned to Iwaizumi. “What I really came over here for was this,” he said wrapping his hands around Hajime’s firm ass and squeezing as he slid their mouths together. Hajime deepened the kiss, one hand landing at Tooru’s nape and the other cupping the side of his face, pulling him in to plunge his tongue between those soft lips.

“Well, that’s...something.”

Matsukawa directed his gaze toward the bar to find whatever it was that caught Hanamaki’s attention. “Oh...shit. Guess now we know what we were missing.” Confused, he turned back around, “That’s good though, right?” 

Hanamaki’s mouth was set in a line. Mattsun could tell he was struggling to keep his expression neutral; he could see the hurt in his eyes. 

“Yeah. I...ah...think I need some air.”

“Makki—“ Matsukawa reached for his hand, but Makki pulled it away, shouldering past people toward the exit. “Takahiro, wait!” 

Suddenly Iwaizumi was at his side, dragging Oikawa behind him. “Matsukawa, what happened?” 

“You two happened,” he said, surprising even himself at the hurt that was laced through his voice. 

“What!?” Hajime and Tooru shouted in unison. 

“I mean, good for you and all, but when were you planning on telling us?” Matsukawa crossed his arms feeling the anger well up inside him at the knowledge that his friends had lied to them, and the thought that maybe they  _ had _ been messing with them this whole time. 

“We thought you knew!” Oikawa exclaimed, confusion written on his face. 

“You thought we...how would we know?” Matsukawa demanded, eyes blazing. “Because now it feels like you’ve been lying to us, your supposed ‘best friends.’ Why else would Makki run off? And after the past week... _ fuck— _ ” His expression was serious as he towered over the two, “You should have known that you could tell us you were together instead of sneaking around.” He shook his head, “Whatever. I have to go after him.”

Iwaizumi grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Hold on, just... _ shit _ ...let me? I have to explain.” He looked toward Oikawa, “ _ We _ have to explain.” Matsukawa considered for a moment before nodding and Iwaizumi bolted for the door. 

“You really didn’t know?” Oikawa asked in a voice just loud enough for Mattsun to hear over the band still playing on stage. 

Matsukawa leaned his elbows on the table, balancing his head on one hand. “Well, we knew you loved each other. We just didn’t think  _ you _ knew that.”

“Wow.” Oikawa sighed, “We really fucked this up, huh?”

“So, how long—” 

Oikawa interrupted him, “Since the end of first year.”

Mattsun didn’t respond, but Tooru could see a question forming so he waited. He figured he owed him that much. “You said at the bar you were into someone,” he said finally. “If you weren’t talking about Iwaizumi...who were you talking about?”

Tooru stepped around the table slowly, not breaking eye contact with Mattsun. He dragged his fingers along the edge, coming to rest on Matsukawa’s hand that had dropped to the tabletop. His fingers were trembling as he intertwined them with Mattsun’s. Matsukawa dropped the other arm down to his side, twisting away from the table to face Oikawa. 

“I’ll give you two guesses,” Tooru said, tilting his chin up to keep Mattsun’s gaze, and he saw the understanding flash there. 

“Both of us?” His breath came out in puffs as Oikawa nodded his head. 

They moved at the same time, Mattsun’s free hand sliding around Oikawa’s waist, and Oikawa’s moving to thread through Mattsun’s short curls. Their mouths came together, tender at first, but slowly deepening, all their desires from the past few days being poured into each other.

Matsukawa slipped his fingers under the hem of Tooru’s shirt, skimming along his hipbone and stroking his fingertips up his ribcage. Tooru gasped and Mattsun took the chance to lick into his open mouth. He clutched at Tooru’s side, feeling a quiet moan vibrate through them both—unsure which one of them it came from. He pulled back slowly, nipping at Oikawa’s bottom lip. 

What about Iwaizumi?” Mattsun asked when he caught his breath, tightening his grip like he was afraid to let go. 

“Him too.” Matsukawa smiled and dipped back down to capture Tooru’s mouth with his own, but Oikawa pulled back. “Wait, Mattsun. I’m...” he traced circular patterns with the fingers threaded through Matsukawa’s hair. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about us. We didn’t do it on purpose, we just...thought it was obvious.” 

“I know.” He rested his forehead against Oikawa’s, staring into his eyes. He rubbed soothing circles on the back of Tooru’s hand with his thumb, “You have to apologize to Makki, too.” 

Tooru nodded, and a breath later Matsukawa jerked their hips together with the hand at his waist. “After that,” he hummed against Oikawa’s lips, “I’ve thought of a few ways you can make it up to me.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe we’ve made it to the end!? I thought this would wind up with 10 chapters, but I decided not to split these last two just for the sake of having similar chapter lengths. 
> 
> If you’re not here for the smut you can stop reading at the first break. 
> 
> ( ˘ ³˘)♥

Hajime’s feet thundered down the pavement, blood rushing in his ears.  _ ‘Please...please let me fix this.’ _

Three blocks down from the club he spotted a familiar head of hair. He slowed to a trot as he approached the railing where Hanamaki was perched with his head cradled in his hands. 

Iwaizumi reached out, but stopped, his hand hovering in the air over strawberry blonde locks. Since he first spotted Makki rushing for the door he could think of nothing but else but wrapping his arms around him. But now that he was standing here before him he was at a complete loss for what to do. 

“Makki...”

“Why did you lie to me? To us?” Makki lifted his head and the look of betrayal on his face cut straight through Iwaizumi’s heart. 

He dropped his arms to his sides. “We didn’t lie, we wouldn’t—” 

Makki scoffed, “A lie of omission is still a lie.” 

“You’re right,” Hajime sighed. “I...I’m sorry. Makki. We thought you knew. We never made a big deal about getting together because...well, nothing really changed for us. We still should have told you guys.”

Makki stayed quiet for a moment, considering. “Did you know Issei and I have been trying to come up with a way to get you two idiots together?” 

“No way,” Iwaizumi laughed in disbelief.

“Mmhmm. I mean, we couldn’t ever agree on a plan, but we were working on it.” He tippped his face back down, gripping the railing and squeezing his eyes closed. “I thought I knew what I wanted, Iwaizumi...but after this week— _ fuck _ —the cream puffs, and the flirting—and back inside when we were in the crowd...what  _ was _ all that?” His eyes were wet when he tilted his head back up. 

“Makki.” It came out in a whisper, the words caught in his throat. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” He hesitated hearing Tooru in his mind telling him to stick to the plan. Iwaizumi shook the thought from his head, “Oikawa and I...we also had a plan. Well, it was mostly Oikawa’s plan.”

“W-what?”

“But now I’m going to do this my way.” He placed his hands on Hanamaki’s knees, slowly sliding up his thighs as he pushed them apart to step between. He brought his hands up, trailing the tips of his fingers up Makki’s arms and across the tops of his shoulders. 

Hajime tried to fight the trembling in his hands as he cupped Makki’s face. “Takahiro...I love you.” 

Makki’s eyes flashed wide, fingers flexing where he gripped the railing. “Are you serious?” he squeaked out in a thin voice. 

“I love you,” he said a little more forcefully. “And Issei. And Tooru. You really are our best friends, but it’s so much more than that. At least I hope it can be more than that. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you about us, and if this is too much I understand just please—” he closed his eyes whispering, “please don’t be upset.” 

“Hajime—” 

His eyes flashed open. A shy smile spread across Makki’s face that made Iwaizumi’s heart stutter in his chest. 

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

A wide grin overtook his face. He angled Makki’s head, noses brushing as he leaned in. Their lips met—soft and tentative at first, but their movements grew bolder with each press. Makki wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi’s shoulders, pulling him closer with a hand at his nape, and Hajime flicked his tongue along the seam of his lips. 

“Get a room!” 

They broke apart, panting and looked up to find Oikawa and Mattsun walking toward them. Makki smiled seeing their hands clasped between them.

“It’s not polite to interrupt, you know.” He chided.

“Well, by all means, continue,” Oikawa said with a wave of his hand.

“Heeey, nice try, but you’re not done here,” Matsukawa interjected, pushing Tooru toward Takahiro. Iwaizumi stepped aside, leaning back against the railing next to them. 

“Is he always this bossy?” 

“Always,” Makki snickered. 

“Why do we like them?” Matsukawa sighed, sidling up to Iwaizumi with his hands tucked into his pockets. 

“A true mystery,” Hajime hummed. “Good thing they’re cute.”

Oikawa and Hanamaki both let out a shriek of surprise. Their faces instantly turned red, rosy blushes highlighted under the glowing street lights. 

“Iwa-chan, you can’t just say stuff like that!”

Mattsun threw his head back laughing, and Iwaizumi shrugged. “I can complement my boyfriends whenever I want.”

“He really is trying to kill me,” Makki groaned, throwing his arms over Tooru and burrowing his face into his chest. Oikawa locked his arms around Makki’s middle, cradling him for a moment before he pulled back. “Guys...if we’re really gonna do this you all need to promise me something.” He tightened his arms around Tooru. “No more secrets.” 

“Promise,” Iwaizumi and Matsukawa nodded in tandem. 

Oikawa tapped his forehead against Makki’s, tracing a finger affectionately across his jaw, “I promise.” Makki canted his chin, closing the distance to peck at Tooru’s mouth around wide smiles. Oikawa hummed a low sound like a purr, sucking Makki’s lower lip playfully between his own. 

“Are we really going to let them have all the fun?” Mattsun drawled, raising one thick eyebrow at Iwaizumi.

“Not a chance.” 

He grabbed Mattsun by the collar of his sweatshirt, yanking him down hard. It wasn’t like his kiss with Hanamaki, patient and tender. No, this is wild and heated. Their mouths crashed together, teeth challenging with scrapes and nips—hands clutching at each other and tongues wrestling for control.

“Damn,” Makki whispered in awe as he and Oikawa high-fived beside them. “That escalated quickly.” 

“We should go,” Oikawa giggled, “before someone calls us in for public indecency.” 

*****

Once again Makki found himself pressed flat, only this time he was pinned to a wall, held in the air by strong arms. His long legs wrapped around Iwaizumi’s waist, heels digging into his lower back. Calloused hands gripped his thighs holding him tight—probably tight enough to bruise, but Takahiro couldn’t bring himself to care when he felt a hard cock press against the bare cleft of his ass through Iwaizumi’s impossibly tight jeans. 

_ Fuck _ —weren’t they just headed to the kitchen for movie night snacks? He could barely think straight with Iwaizumi’s mouth and his hands all over him. He had dreamed this exact scenario so many times that it didn’t feel real. 

Hajime broke their kiss, supporting Makki’s weight with his right arm. With his left he tugged Makki’s shirt up, licking up his chest before capturing one of his nipples between his teeth.  _ ‘Oh, shit. It’s definitely real.’ _ His head hit the wall as his back arched, leaning hard into the pressure with a sharp cry. 

_ “Fuuuuck, baby,”  _ Iwaizumi growled dragging teeth and lips over his gasping chest, “I love all the sounds you make.” He brought his left hand up to press his pointer and middle finger against Makki’s lips, “Open for me.” 

Makki’s jaw dropped open on a moan, sloppily sucking in both fingers and laving his tongue over the intrusion. He remembered the quiet praise whispered into his ear after the same command just hours before, and his cock twitched against Iwaizumi’s bare stomach. Hajime readjusted his grip, snaking his arm back down to palm  at Makki’s ass, teasing his now slick fingers over the rim of his entrance. 

“Are—you sure you—wanna do this?” Hajime asked between heaving breaths. 

“Yes,” Makki whined, squirming in his hold. “Please—please—don’t stop.” 

Hajime surged forward to recapture Makki’s mouth, slowly pressing in with one finger. Makki dropped one arm from where it was braced on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, stroking himself through the initial discomfort while Hajime gently worked his way in past his knuckle. 

Iwaizumi’s fingers were thick, so much thicker than Mattsun’s or his own, but before long the searing stretch felt good. Every slow drag sent electrical pulses through his limbs. Hanamaki let out a sound of protest when Hajime pulled out, but it was soon replaced by a breathy gasp as he drove two fingers in as far as he could.

“Mmm...you’re so good for me, baby,” Hajime murmured into his neck, nibbling at the flesh there as he scissored his fingers. Makki let loose a high keening sound through clenched teeth, squeezing around the digits working him open. “Ooh, you like that don’t you, ‘Hiro?” Iwaizumi crooned. “Like it when I tell you how good you are? How much I’ve wanted to see you bouncing on my cock?” 

_ “Ahh—Fu—Fuck yes.” _

Iwaizumi grinned devilishly. “Hold on tight,” he said, kissing Makki hard on the mouth before peeling him away from the wall. “Let’s go see what other pretty sounds you can make.”

*****

“What about this one?”

“Does it have to be about aliens?” Mattsun asked lazily from the other end of the long couch. 

“No,” Oikawa pouted, “not unless you want to have fun.” 

_ Whump! _

Both of their heads swiveled toward the door. They heard a distinct moan reverberate through the hall and a moment later something landed in a heap in front of the doorway. 

“Mattsun, what was that?”

Issei snickered, “Pretty sure that was Iwaizumi’s shirt.” 

“So much for taking things slow,” Tooru rolled his eyes, turning his attention back toward the TV. 

“I don’t think anyone actually agreed to that,” Mattsun hummed. “And you know...you may not have fessed up to it, but I’m pretty sure you’re the one who started all this.” He swung his legs up onto the couch and leaned back against the armrest crossing his arms behind his head. 

“What?” Oikawa abandoned his movie search, tossing the remote down and turning toward Matsukawa. “Why do you think that?”

“Simple,” he responded with a sly grin. “You’re a villain.”

“Mattsun!? I am not a villain!” Oikawa shrieked.

“Hmm, disagree. You figured out our weaknesses and you used them against us. I knew being friends with you would be dangerous.”

“So what? That just means I’m cunning and resourceful—and it worked, didn’t it!?” 

They heard a sharp cry and another  _ thunk _ against the wall. Tooru tipped his head toward the door, “Those two definitely aren’t complaining.”

Matsukawa dropped one leg off the front of the couch and watched Tooru’s eyes flit to his straining groin. He had to admit, hearing his boyfriend get fucked in the hallway by his best friend—no wait,  _ his boyfriends _ —it was hotter than he imagined. 

He pulled one arm from behind his head. With the palm of his hand facing up he pointed two fingers at Oikawa, curving them upward slowly in a very suggestive “come hither” motion. A visible shiver quaked down Tooru’s spine. 

Oikawa climbed gracefully up the length of the couch on his hands and knees, entranced, unable to take his eyes away from Mattsun’s. He slid between Issei’s spread legs until they were face-to-face. 

“I really can’t believe I fell for the ‘damsel in distress’ thing.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper, “You’re too perfect for that to be real.”

The room was dark, but Mattsun could see Tooru’s blush glow in the light from the abandoned television. “You say that like I don’t work hard to be that way.” 

Matsukawa cradled Tooru’s face, cheeks hot against his palms. He stroked those beautiful high cheekbones the way he had that afternoon, cherishing the way that Oikawa’s eyelids fluttered at the soft touches. “I know you do,” he whispered lightly, placing delicate kisses along the edges of Tooru’s mouth, first one corner and then the other. “That’s one of the reasons I love you.” 

Mattsun gave him no time to respond before sealing their mouths together—plunging his tongue between plush lips to lick along the roof of his mouth. He felt Oikawa melt into his hold—distracted—pliant. 

In one quick motion he flipped their positions pressing Oikawa’s back into the cushions, drawing a surprised gasp and then a low moan from the man beneath him when he squeezed his ass and ground their hips together with a hungry growl. 

_ “Aah—shit _ —and you think I’m the villain.” 

Matsukawa grinned proudly above him and set to work stripping them both down to their boxer briefs, running his tongue along the hard lines of muscle he uncovered. He moved slowly up Oikawa’s thighs, alternating between leaving open mouthed kisses and bites along the sensitive flesh from his knee to the hem of his boxers—biting only hard enough to give Tooru a jolt, but not leave a mark. Desire coiled deep within him when he watched the tent in Oikawa’s shorts twitch after one particularly sharp nip. 

Tooru’s breaths came in short huffs as Issei coaxed small needy sounds from his new lover. He ghosted his mouth over Tooru’s length without touching, breathing hot over the damp fabric. 

“Tell me what you want, babe,” he said moving back to eye-level and dipping one hand down by his waistband, tugging at the elastic. Oikawa responded with a whine, either from annoyance or embarrassment, Mattsun wasn’t sure.  _ Fuck—He _ wanted so many things right now. Wanted to take Tooru apart piece by piece until he was writhing, sobbing, begging to be fucked into the sofa. But he couldn't be as forceful as he was with Makki...not yet anyway.

“Tell me, or I won’t do it,” he said firmly, enjoying the way Oikawa’s pupils flared at the threat. 

“T-touch me...” Tooru whispered. 

_ ‘Good enough,’  _ he thought to himself with a smirk. Oikawa’s eyes rolled back when Matsukawa ground his palm down his length, but the moan he heard was coming from...his left?

They both turned their heads to find Hanamaki spread wide and bent over the seat of the other sofa. They watched Hajime, kneeling on a futon cushion and clad only in boxers, lick languidly over Makki’s entrance. Takahiro moaned loudly, driving his hips back to fuck himself on Iwaizumi’s tongue. He clutched futilely at the sofa, fingers scrambling for purchase on the upholstery. 

“Holy shit,” Mattsun heard—seconds later realizing it was him who said it. 

“Iwa-chan is good at that, isn’t he Makki?” Oikawa said in a low singsong voice. 

_ “Nngh—so—so fucking good.” _

Matsukawa redirected Oikawa’s attention by roughly yanking his boxers down past his ankles. He shucked his own before climbing back over Tooru and slotting their hips together. Skillful fingers wrapped around both of their throbbing erections, and he bucked his hips at the contact forcing a moan from them both. 

Mattsun laced his fingers overtop Oikawa’s and squeezed, dragging his thumb across both of their slick crowns and thrusting his hips in time with the string of sweet curses pouring out of Takahiro across the room. 

“Issei! Wa-wait— _ fuck _ —’m so close.” 

Mattsun chuckled into the underside of his jaw, “That’s the idea, babe.” 

With eyes shut tight Oikawa shook his head, pausing his motions and clamping his hand down at the base trying to fight back his orgasm. “Wanna come—on your dick,” he gasped.

Matsukawa’s head spun hearing those words. He stilled his hips, but the temptation to keep rutting against him was so powerful. He smashed their lips together, uncoordinated and messy. “Floor,” he panted into his mouth before untangling their legs and dragging himself up off the couch. 

Makki released a guttural moan, digging his forehead into the edge of the sofa. “Iwaizumi, if you don’t fuck me  _ right now _ I’m going to pin you to that futon, and I’m going to ride you until you forget your own goddamn name.”

“Mmm...I don’t see the problem here,” Hajime smirked but withdrew his fingers leaving Takahiro’s hole wet and gaping. “C’mere, baby.” He guided Makki back to lie on the futon where Oikawa was already filled with three lubed fingers, knees wide and ass angled high in the air as Matsukawa spread him open. 

“Why the fuck are you still wearing boxers?” Hanamaki asked as he settled in next to Tooru. 

Hajime shrugged, reaching for the roll of condoms he had stashed earlier, “Been busy.” 

Makki reached out to peel down Iwaizumi’s waistband, mouth watering when his heavy length sprung free. He hungrily wrapped his lips around the swollen head, swallowing him down until it hit the back of his throat. Hajime dug his fingers into Makki’s skull. His eyes rolled back in his head, feeling Takahiro’s throat constrict around him, and he held him tight against his groin for a few seconds before he let up, hands shaking and chest heaving. 

Makki let go with a  _ pop _ , sucking in deep breaths. He unwrapped one of the condoms and rolled it down over Iwaizumi’s length, gazing up at him with challenging eyes. With a palm in the center of his chest Hajime shoved Makki back down to the mattress.

Iwaizumi gripped him under his knees, yanking him closer and lifting his hips to align the head of his cock with Makki’s entrance. 

“Fuck yeah,” Takahiro moaned through gritted teeth, “enough teasing. Gimme that dick.” Iwaizumi pressed forward, slowly at first, and then with one deep thrust buried himself to the hilt. They both cried out when their hips met. 

Makki threw his arm out scrambling to grab hold of anything nearby. Hajime had prepped him for so long, but he still felt like he was being split open on the thickness inside him. Oikawa grabbed his hand, threading their fingers together and grounding him for a moment.

Hajime rocked his hips, slowly at first, fighting the overwhelming desire to pound Takahiro into the mattress. It was so tight—he wasn’t going to last long wrapped in that searing heat. The sounds echoing through the room were something straight out of his dirtiest fantasies—rapid huffs of breath, Makki and Tooru’s desperate keening, the slick squelch of lube as he and Mattsun thrust into them.

Matsukawa pulled Tooru up to his knees in front of him, supporting him with one arm wrapped tight across his chest. He pressed his chest into Oikawa’s back, slamming into him at a new angle and planting kisses on every inch of skin he could reach. Oikawa dropped his head back onto Issei’s shoulder exposing the long beautiful line of his throat. 

Seeing their new position gave Hajime an idea. He swooped down to capture Takahiro’s mouth, swallowing down his needy whine when Hajime pulled out fully. He flipped Makki onto his hands and knees, pulling him up to mirror Mattsun and Tooru, and when he slid back in the new angle had him glancing over and over against Makki’s most sensitive spot. It also put him face-to-face with Oikawa.

Makki found Tooru’s hand again and they clung to each other. They leaned forward to slot their open mouths together, breathing in the same humid air, passing short desperate moans back and forth between them. Oikawa guided Makki’s hand down to his own neglected length, hissing at the contact and wrapping his own hand around Takahiro’s bobbing cock. 

They finished together, hot cum splattering both their chests. The sound ripped from Makki’s lungs as he squeezed around him pulled Iwaizumi over the edge. He tightened his grip on Makki’s hips as he buried himself deep, cock twitching with his release. Mattsun followed soon after, the pressure building up in him finally bursting along with a string of nonsense curses and praises. 

Boneless, Oikawa and Hanamaki slumped to the floor still clinging to each other. Mattsun flopped beside them gently carding his fingers through Tooru’s hair, whispering praises to both of them. Once Hajime caught his breath, he got up to dispose of the condoms, returning with towels that he and Mattsun used to wipe down their drowsy boyfriends. Both of them took care to be gentle, working knots out of tired muscles and leaving kisses over damp skin.

They lay in a heap on the mattresses spread out over the floor—heads on chests, hands clasped, fingers stroking through hair and limbs tangled together. Hajime heard a sigh and he tipped his head toward the sound. 

“Hmm?” He asked, the sound a low rumble in his chest. 

“Mmm...Happy,” Issei smiled fondly. Without jostling Makki or Tooru he reached out his hand to cup Hajime’s face adoringly.

Though they may have been hopeful, none of them quite expected that the day would lead them there. They still had so much to discuss as the four of them navigated their new relationship. But for now, wrapped up in each other’s arms, they were just—happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG THEY DID IT! CAN YOU GUYS EVEN BELIEVE IT!? (ﾉ≧∀≦)ﾉ
> 
> If you made it this far I just wanted to say thanks for reading! Your comments and kudos totally give me life, and even though I mostly did this for myself it makes me so happy to know that someone else is enjoying it too. 
> 
> If you’re interested I’m thinking about doing some one-shots with these guys later. Now that we’ve reached the end I’m not quite ready to give them up. 
> 
> Until then you can come yell at me on Tumblr 
> 
> @beauxxxtiful_lies
> 
> (≧◡≦) ♡


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